Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Graves took the business card, his eyes, with a gentle smile, met Kobit’s scrutinizing gaze, and their eyes briefly met in the air.

People with certain common traits always find it easier to discover their kind in the vast sea of people.

At this moment, both saw in each other’s eyes a familiar, tacit look—one they saw every morning in the mirror, a greed for power, and a cold essence hidden beneath polite surfaces.

”It’s an honor to have the Security Department’s attention,” Graves said softly, ”Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kobit.”

Both extended their palms and shook hands politely.

...

”Click!”

The shutter flashed as an FMC reporter captured the moment of the handshake precisely.

And diagonally behind the reporter, another pair of gray eyes was also watching this scene.

Vid’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

”Time to go, Vid,” Professor Morry put on his hat and urged, ”Otherwise, if those merchants and officials sniff us out, we won’t be able to escape today.”

”Coming!” Vid replied, following the professor into a passageway designated for judges and participants, and said, ”I have a few friends who came with me, they’re in the audience box.”

Professor Morry said nonchalantly, ”Oh, they can completely act freely now. It’s not too late to reunite with you after leaving the arena.”

In Professor Morry’s eyes, those well-dressed wizards in the audience were like jackals and hyenas labeled as ”trouble,” he wouldn’t let Vid walk into a trap.

The corridor was quite empty, and faint sounds of other judges discussing could be heard ahead.

The works of those participants, although not mature, sparked some inspiration for these elders, and their profound knowledge was enough to transform that spark into mature works.

However, no sign of the participants was visible in the corridor, as most chose to reunite with their families first, and some, although not winning awards, had created works with particular features and were being pulled aside to discuss collaboration.

For those socially anxious alchemists, such commercial discussions were more exhausting than spending an entire day by the furnace hammering iron, but they had to stand stiffly in place, engaging in awkward small talk.

The majority of ordinary alchemists started as apprentices in a magic workshop—because this allowed them to use free materials for practice.

Then they gradually familiarized themselves with alchemy, moved to independently creating products, and then attempted to create something of their own (at which point the wealth accumulated in the early stages would rapidly disappear like a flood released from a dam).

After having works, alchemists could make a name for themselves in occasions like these.

If lucky, they could gain the appreciation of some wealthy and powerful figures, thereby starting a life as profitable as Professor Morry’s.

But those who were unlucky or had limited talent floated and sank in this extremely costly hobby of alchemy, full of undiscovered talents, destined for a lifetime of poverty.

This is also why those alchemists who could stay in their basements for several years, with shoes moldy and overgrown, participated in such competitions—they needed the world to know them, to see their talents.

After getting away from the hustle and bustle of the arena, Professor Morry slowed down and looked at the silent Vid beside him.

”Vid, what were you so absorbed in looking at just now?” Professor Morry asked, ”Still concerned about that Graves?”

Vid snapped out of his thoughts, seeing the professor’s concerned face, a hint of complex emotion flashed in his eyes.

He said softly, ”I was just thinking… if it weren’t for the fortune of becoming your student, I might have been like them…”

He slightly turned his head, gesturing to the direction of the arena behind them:

”After graduating from school, I would have to struggle to find resources and support for my research, maneuvering among various people, possibly exploited or deceived… and then embarking on a path completely different from now.”

Recalling the beginning, when the Friendship Book was just launched… it was Professor Morry who vouched with his reputation, invited friends, allowing Vid to come forward without struggling.

It was also Professor Morry who stood in front of him, blocking the greed and schemes, meticulously fighting for his interests, protecting Vid, who knew nothing about the Magic Contract at the time, from falling into certain traps.

The more Vid understood the magic world, the more he realized—what a huge favor Professor Morry had given him back then.

He said softly, ”Being your student… I really am so lucky, Professor!”

Professor Morry, hearing this, was first stunned, then broke into a most gratified and slightly scolding smile. He extended his hand and gently patted Vid’s back like he would his child.

”Silly boy, what are you saying!”

Professor Morry laughed, ”With your talent and mindset, even without me, having someone else as Hogwarts’ alchemy professor, you would surely succeed… it’s just a matter of time.”

He looked at Vid with utmost certainty, full of affection:

”I actually feel that accepting you as my student is my luck… Throughout history, many outstanding alchemists were only famous while alive, fading shortly after death.”

”But in future history books, perhaps it will always be recorded—Terence Moray, an excellent alchemist, who guided Vid Gray in alchemy—and this is the greatest achievement of my life.”